Thursday, May 22, 2008

To choose between two women who love me, each of whom wants me and needs me, is not easy. Choosing between them without taking into consideration their needs or desires, and only my own, is a lot harder, but it's what I have to do.

Making a decision like this requires a very special and ruthless kind of selfishness, like that of an infant or a hunted animal. I hadn't ever expected to be forced to make that kind of decision.

And if you're sitting there reading this, feeling impatient about my endlessly saying "I have to decide, I really truly have to decide, and nobody can decide it for me, it's all up to me," I understand exactly. I'm tired of it, too.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

No matter how this ends up, no matter which woman I wind up with, I will always look back on this time in my life with contempt and self-loathing, because I know that this long period of delay and indecision is causing pain to both women in my life.

Each of them is torn by uncertainty and ambivalence. R has passed up job opportunities in order to remain in the Willamette Valley area so that I would not have to decide yet, and also so that I would be available to my wife so that as my ex-wife, she would not be deprived of my assistance when she needed it.

Big joke: when my wife finally heard about this, she told me bluntly that once I left she would not want to see me any longer.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

One of the cruelest tragedies of the sex industry is that it attracts girls like me who already have skewed ideas about sex and self-worth and then completely reinforces all our secret fears. The men you meet, the whole lifestyle, whispers to you that you were right all along, that all that really matters is being desired.I still struggle every day to change my thinking. It makes me almost sick to my stomach to meet new people whether in a personal or professional capacity, because I worry they will not think I am pretty. Most of my friends are men with whom I have had former dalliances because I just do not feel comfortable around people who I don’t know with certainty find me sexually attractive. In my head, my worth is completely tied up in my appearance and sex. As a result of being abused at a young age, my thinking is fucked. There is something wrong with my brain. No matter how logically I know that who I am is more important than how sexy I look, I have internalized the lesson that it is my sexuality that makes me lovable.Of course, this is a trap that will keep me perpetually insecure because not everyone is always going to be attracted to me. When you feel that perfectly normal fact as a deep blow to your self-esteem, it’s impossible to ever really feel confident.

Fuck.

I wonder what my therapist will say when I show her this and say that Friend Call Girl speaks to my condition? My wife and I joked once about my working as a gigolo. Fuck.

Well, I had already decided that, whether with my wife or with R or with N or on my own, I was going to change some things.

Life is full of surprises. This blog (and its predecessor, misterniceguy1960) was originally created for me to advertise for a lover. Later, it served as a brag-diary about my sexual exploits. Now, I am committed to a monogamous relationship with my wife. Surprise.